


Red Lipstick

by StrawberryBubbles



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Body Image, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining Enjolras, obvlivious, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:50:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1609070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryBubbles/pseuds/StrawberryBubbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras never feels more confident than when he has perfectly done 50's make-up with the winged eye liner and red lipstick. Unluckily he can't do make-up to save his life. Luckily Grantaire can, and is completely willing to do his make-up for him. It's perfect, until Enjolras sort of falls in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Lipstick

**Author's Note:**

> So I should be doing my essay that is due in 8 hours, or writing more of the fic I am only like 6 or so chapters into, but instead I am wasting my time writing this. In my defence when I came up with the idea I expected it to be like a quarter of the length, but it got away from me. I hope people like it. Also, titles are dumb and hard, but while looking for a title for this (yes I actually put effort into it and only came up with 'Red Lipstick' I actually hate titles okay?) I found the song Red Lipstick by Kesha and I kind of love it and now I can totally see Enjolras playing this song while trying to seduce R, you know, ignoring the last part of the song.

 Enjolras had always wanted to be the type of person who wore make-up every day, he never felt more confident than when he had a sharp wing and bright red lips. The only problem being that he is incredibly bad at doing make-up, his eye liner is always uneven, his mascara clumped and he can’t for the life of him put lipstick on in a way that not only kept off his teeth, but also didn’t end up on his skin, and he loved red lipstick. Grantaire however was amazing at putting make-up on every body and anybody.

Enjolras only knew this because he had been complaining to Jehan about how he wanted to wear make-up to the rally for including a section for preferred pronouns to be placed on drivers licences, passports and any other form of official I.D, but couldn’t and they had told him Grantaire was amazing at doing other peoples make-up.

So he had sat down in a chair and let Grantaire put make-up on his face. He had never felt better about his appearance in his life. Enjolras tried very hard not to be superficial. He tried to not put emphasis on exterior looks over internal substance, but he couldn’t deny that feeling like he looked good made him feel better, more confident. And he was fairly certain he had never felt more confident than at that rally, with 50’s style winged eye-liner and his hair up in a perfect messy bun, once again compliments of Grantaire.

He liked how he felt so incredibly confident for the entire day and nothing, not even the thought of what his father might have said had he seen him, had dampened the confidence.

And he liked the blush that coloured Grantaire’s cheeks when he said ‘thank you’.

The muttered ‘any time’ that was Grantaire’s reply.

He waited a little over two weeks before he asked Grantaire again.

“Hey Grantaire?” He asked, tentatively. He and Grantaire weren’t really friends. He couldn’t be certain that he hadn’t done his make-up the first time as a favour to Jehan, as they were really good friends. And maybe the offer of ‘any time’ had just been one of those obligatory things. Like when someone asks how you are during exam time and you are obligated to say ‘fine thanks’ when a more honest reply would be ‘feeling as though the entire fate of the world rests on my success and I can feel the representation of that in what feels like a world sized weight sitting inside my chest making it difficult to breathe.’

But he still had to ask, still had to find out if Grantaire would do it. Because he had felt like everything was going wrong recently and he just wanted to feel as good as he had the day of the rally.

Grantaire had startled, despite how gentle Enjolras had tried to be.

“Yeah?” He replied.

“Would you mind doing my make-up again?” He asked, “It’s just –“

He never got to finish his explanation, something he was glad of as he didn’t have one, before Grantaire answered.

“Yes.” He said, very quickly. He then went a very a very dark red, looked down at his hands and said: “I mean, you know,” he looked back up at Enjolras, meeting his eyes briefly before looking away, up over Enjolras’s shoulder, “sure, no worries.”

Enjolras smiled. “Thanks. Come to my place tomorrow morning?” He asked. He had never been more grateful for the fact that Grantaire lived in his building and only one floor below him.

“Uh, sure. What sort of time?” Grantaire asked.

“Would nine be too early?” He wanted to have the make-up on for as long as possible.

“Sure.” Grantaire said, though the way his eyes widened told Enjolras it was too early.

“Or ten?” Enjolras asked.

“No, no, it’s cool, I’ll be there at nine.” He smiled, Enjolras smiled back.

Tomorrow was going to be good.

 

~*~

 

The next morning at almost quarter past nine there was a knock on Enjolras’s door.

He opened it to a distinctly bedraggled looking Grantaire, with his curls in disarray, no shoes, only socks, and half lidded eyes.

“I’m here. I’m awake. Sit.” Was all he said before pushing Enjolras into a chair and starting with the make-up.

He was using his own, something Enjolras would have to change if this became a regular thing, which he was rather hoping it would be.

Another thing he would have to change was the silence.

It was somewhat ridiculous. In the meetings when Grantaire would argue as though argument was his life-blood Enjolras would give anything to make him quiet for just five minutes, but here? In the silence of his apartment as Grantaire carefully curled his eye-lashes, his face only inches away from Enjolras’s own? He couldn’t stand the silence. And he couldn’t speak either. He was worried any movement of his face would completely mess up what Grantaire was doing.

So he sat in silence wondering at the concentration on Grantaires face as he gifted Enjolras with confidence. He had seen the look before, when he was drawing in his sketch book at the back of the Musain. Enjolras had never wondered what was in those sketch books before, but now he wanted to know, wanted to see what was in them. Wanted to know if what he put down on those pages was anywhere near as magical as what he put on Enjolras’s face. If it too could transform a bad week into good one.

It didn’t take Grantaire long before he was done.

Enjolras thanked him again on his way out.

Grantaire blushed and muttered ‘any time’ once again.

And so it went for several months.

Enjolras would tell himself he could survive without the confidence Grantaires make-up gave him. He would then do just that, survive, for a good two weeks before he caved and asked Grantaire to do his make-up again. Grantaire would come. Do his make-up. Enjolras would thank him. Grantaire would blush and say ‘anytime’. And then the whole thing would start again.

After about the third month, he decided he really couldn’t keep mooching off Grantaire for make-up and so he asked Grantaire to help him pick out some make-up of his own. Which he did. Telling Enjolras which brands tested on animals, which were the best quality, which weren’t good to their employees and which were. Enjolras was surprised that Grantaire not only knew all this, but actually cared about it. When he pointed it out Grantaire scoffed.

“You do know I mostly just argue with you to antagonise you, right? I mean I don’t agree with the majority of the stuff I say. Then again I don’t agree with a lot of what you say either. Do I believe the world is shit? Yes. Do I believe the world needs to be changed? Also yes. Do I believe it actually _can_ be changed? No. In obnoxiously large, bright neon letters, written across the sky.” He was standing in front of Enjolras looking at different coloured lipsticks, he chose that moment to lean back, look over his shoulder and smirk at Enjolras. “But I do believe there are little things we can do.” He said turning back to the choices and picking a colour. “Me buying beauty products that aren’t tested on animals, won’t stop beauty products being tested on animals, but it doesn’t cause beauty products being tested on animals either. And I count that as a win.”

Enjolras couldn’t help but think his reasoning was flawed.

“But if nobody bought make-up tested on animals, then make-up wouldn’t be tested on animals.” Enjolras argued. “So as an individual refusing to buy said make-up you are being an agent of change.”

“Yes, but _everyone_ would have to stop buying make-up tested on animals, for make-up to stop being tested on animals, and that is never going to happen.” Grantaire argued right back.

“But if people just had the right knowledge about where their make-up was coming from they would stop buying the stuff tested on animals forcing certain brands to change or go bankrupt.”

“Ah, but you forget, humans are inherently selfish. Make-up tested on animals is cheaper than that that isn’t, so there are always going to be people who buy the stuff tested on animals.” Grantaire said with an air of finality, as though he had proven Enjolras wrong, which he obviously hadn’t.

“I disagree, if people _knew_ what those few bucks saved was actually costing, they would stop buying it.”

“But most people _do_ know, and they still buy it anyway.”

The argument went on all the way back to Enjolras’s apartment. Grantaire decided they had to test out his new make-up right then and there and so Enjolras sat patiently while Grantaire ranted about products that used animal testing, and others that supported organisations their customers wouldn’t support themselves. As well as the level of awareness said customers had of such activities. And Enjolras discovered a way to fill the silence.

 

~*~

 

From that point on he would always think of a topic to goad Grantaire into ranting about as he did Enjolras’s make-up. He couldn’t just outright ask him, Grantaire was far too intelligent and would see through any attempt. So instead he would make off handed comments. Say something about the situation in Crimea, or some other topic, that he knew Grantaire would disagree with and then Grantaire would go off on a rant that would last through the application of Enjolras’s make-up. There was the added bonus that it meant that instead of leaving right away as he used to, Grantaire would now stay longer and longer as they argued back and forth over whatever topic Enjolras had thought up.

It also meant Enjolras learnt more and more about Grantaire, and often times he wasn’t entirely sure how he learnt it.

He learnt that Grantaire, aside from just being a drawer and a painter, also knew how to sculpt.

He learnt that Grantaire had learnt the violin, the piano, and the clarinet and also had a beautiful singing voice. Also that he could sing certain characters parts of entire Operas, and sing them well.

He learnt about Grantaire’s passion for anything Classical, especially the literature, and thus he learnt about Grantaire’s ridiculously good memory as he quoted entire passages from the Iliad.

He learnt that Grantaire volunteered at the local women’s shelter teaching women defensive fighting techniques.

He learnt even hungover Grantaire was far better at applying make-up than Enjolras ever had been or could ever hope to be.

He learnt that no matter how bad a mood Grantaire was in the one thing that could always make it better was his friends, whether it was actually seeing them or simply talking about them.

He learnt to recognise his different smiles. The proud smile he wore when talking about his friends’ achievements, the self-conscious one he wore when Enjolras complimented him, the self-deprecating one he wore when he refuted whatever compliment Enjolras had just given, and every one in between.

He learnt about the way Grantaire couldn’t help but talk seemingly with his whole body when he was really enthusiastic about a point he was making.

And he learnt exactly what colour his eyes were, but that was more to do with the proximity needed for Grantaire to do his make-up than about any topic Enjolras chose.

 

~*~

 

As he got to know Grantaire better he ran into somewhat of a problem. It was a problem he hadn’t noticed at first, and in fact it hit him rather suddenly all at once, completely out of the blue.

He had just received a compliment on his eye make-up, which he had accepted gratefully, though adding that Grantaire did all his make-up so the girl should really compliment him, and it was as she was turning away that it happened, that Enjolras’s entire world came crumbling down around him.

The girl said in a quiet mutter to one of her friends, though loud enough that Enjolras could still hear; ‘It figures a gorgeous guy like that has a boyfriend.’

Enjolras wanted to call out, wanted to correct her but, he also really didn’t want that. And that was when he realised. Grantaire may not be his boyfriend, but there was nothing Enjolras wanted more.

He felt like a bucket of ice water had just been dumped over him and he didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t do relationships. He had tried, once or twice, but he had never had the time, nor even really the interest for them. He’d had relationships because it was a social norm and there was a time in his life when he thought he had to follow social norms, but since then he hadn’t even considered it.

And now it was something he couldn’t stop thinking about. He wanted to see Grantaire sleepy with his hair a mess, not just at his front door in the mornings, but in his bed. He wanted to feel Grantaires fingers in his hair, not to do it up, but simply to touch. He wanted to see Grantaire with the lip stick he so carefully applied to Enjolras’s lips smudged against his own, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

How did one even go about pursuing a relationship? How did he tell Grantaire he was interested without completely messing up what they had if Grantaire didn’t feel the same?

Enjolras was at a loss, so he turned to what he knew; research.

Enjolras watched every single romantic comedy he could get his hands on and he came up with a plan.

 

~*~

 

He had determined, after about a week of study, and a week of both wishing Grantaire touched him more and less, came over more frequently and less frequently, stayed for longer and shorter, he determined the best way to see if Grantaire was interested was to see if he got jealous when Enjolras mentioned being interested in someone else.

Enjolras was nervous when he opened the door, but he had come up with a plan and it was going to work.

He sat in the chair and Grantaire set out the make-up he would use.

“Wait,” Enjolras said holding out a hand to stop Grantaire, touching his wrist. Grantaire paused and Enjolras tried to re-gather his thoughts, pull them away from focusing on where he was touching Grantaires skin. “Uh, would you mind doing something special today?”

“Special?” Grantaire asked.

“Yeah.” Enjolras said taking a deep breath, now or never, “I um, meet someone, I’m trying to get their attention.”

“Attention?” Grantaire almost looked like his brain had short circuited, was that a good sign?

“Yeah, like, romantic attention.” He said.

“Oh.” Grantaire swallowed. “Oh” he said again this time with a tone of understanding, he blushed and cleared his throat. “Right. Yeah, sure. No worries.”

He smiled and Enjolras smiled back.

Grantaire was quiet as he put Enjolras’s make-up on. Enjolras had tried to get him into conversation but he didn’t seem interested.

After just over fifteen minutes Enjolras was looking beautiful with a smokey eye and a light pink lip and Grantaire had left. Enjolras could only take it as a good sign.

After a little over a week of this same routine playing out however, Enjolras wasn’t so sure.

He ended up calling Courfeyrac, who upon Enjolras asking if he thought Grantaire might maybe be interested in him, laughed for a good five minutes after which Enjolras gave up, hanging up on him. He originally thought it was a bad sign, and that Courf was laughing because he thought the idea so preposterous.

It wasn’t until ten minutes later that he got a text from Combeferre, Courfeyrac’s boyfriend, saying ‘He’s only laughing because Grantaire is obviously ridiculously in love with you, don’t be discouraged.’ That Enjolras saw it for the good sign that it was.

However Grantaire, after having returned to his normal talkative self after two weeks, wasn’t acting any differently at all. He was acting the same as he had been every other day before Enjolras had started requesting ‘special’ make-up.

So Enjolras started doing other things to try and get Grantaires attention. Touching him more when they talked. Inviting him to coffee after he had done his make-up. Taking showers just before Grantaire got there and having him do his make-up while he was in nothing but a towel.

It soon became clear, however, that Grantaire wasn’t going to take the hint, and that Grantaire wasn’t going to make the first move. And that was fine. It was just that it meant Enjolras would have to. Which, yeah, was fine.

Except that it wasn’t, it so, so, wasn’t.

What if he reacted badly? What if he wasn’t interested? What if it meant the end to the make-up and the confidence and worst of all, Grantaire’s presence in his apartment every morning?

It didn’t matter though, Enjolras had to at least think about making the first move. And he did, he thought about it every day.

He thought about it on Tuesday when Grantaire was applying his lip stick and Enjolras could feel the drag of every stroke pulling at his lip.

He thought about it on Wednesday when Grantaire coloured his eye-lids in a way that had him leaning in incredibly close, that brought his lips to within millimetres of Enjolras’s own, so close that he would swear he could _feel_ the empty space between them.

He thought about it on Thursday, when Grantaire was doing his hair, running his fingers through it in a way that almost made Enjolras moan.

And he thought about it every other day until finally he couldn’t do it anymore.

 

~*~

 

It was a Saturday. He had the entire day off and he knew Grantaire did too. He couldn’t help but think of what they could be doing, if only Grantaire knew.  Couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how Grantaire would kiss with his whole body just as he spoke with it when he was truly enthused. Of how his eyes would look up at him as Enjolras straddled him, of how they would follow Enjolras’s movements as he moved down Grantaire’s body.

Grantaire asked him a question that he missed, so caught up in his fantasies. He blushed profusely, hoping it wasn’t obvious what he was thinking of.

“Sorry, what?”

“I just asked if you would be seeing this guy today? If you wanted me to do something special, or if I could do the 50’s look, you know from that first rally? It looks so good on you, especially with bright red lipstick.” Grantaire replied.

It made Enjolras’s stomach squirm and his face colour again. Grantaire remembered what he had done for that first rally? That had basically been his go to look ever since, but it amazed him that Grantaire remembered. And he couldn’t help the smile that formed upon hearing Grantaire thought he looked good in 50’s make-up. Enjolras loved 50’s make-up. The winged eye, bright red lipstick, though he couldn’t help but think the lipstick would look even better smeared across Grantaires lips after kissing it off Enjolras’s.

“Sure.” He said, nodding, going for nonchalant as he vowed in his head he would see what Grantaire looked like with his lip stick smeared across his lips by the end of the day.

Grantaire was quiet and careful, he took his time, which was not usual, he was normally a lot faster and talkative than this, it was weird, almost as though he were the one gearing up to do something that would change their friendship forever, not the other way round. But it was good, it gave Enjolras time and space to catalogue every single detail of this experience, just in case he totally messed it up and it never happened again.

He almost wanted to ask Grantaire to re-do his hair when he was done, just in case it was the last time he felt those fingers in his hair again. But after Grantaire had put the last hair pin in place he pulled away quickly grabbing the mirror to show Enjolras what he looked like.

Enjolras barely speared his reflection a glance, keeping his eyes on Grantaire.

“Thank you.” He murmured.

“You’re welcome.” Was the hushed reply.

Enjolras felt his stomach drop. Grantaire always said ‘anytime’ he never said ‘you’re welcome’. What did this mean? Did he know? Was he about to let Enjolras down gently?

Grantaire cleared his throat. “Look, Enjolras,-“

Enjolras panicked, there was no other word for it, Grantaire knew, and he was about to let Enjolras down gently and so he panicked and interrupted Grantaire. “I’m sorry.” He said. “It’s just you’re so amazing. I mean yes, you can be a bit of a dick, and I know you think one of the things that is most important to me is a massive waste of time. But you are so amazing, and talented, and such a good friend, and I’m just so sorry, and can you please just pretend that you don’t know. I won’t act on it, I promise, well I mean I’ll try not to act on it, I kind of can’t make any promises, cause you really are amazing and I don’t think I can keep them, but just please. Please don’t go.”

Grantaire was staring at him in confusion.

“What?” He eventually said.

Enjolras took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, but I did. And I get if it makes you uncomfortable, only, please don’t go. It would kill me not to be able to see you every morning.” Enjolras said, trying not to keep the emotion out of his voice, failing miserably going by the rough quality of his voice.

Grantaire exhaled a loud puff of air.

“You’re in love with me?” He asked incredulous, and oh god he didn’t know. “You, Enjolras, are in love with me. Grantaire.” He said slowly.

“Oh god you didn’t know.” Enjolras repeated out loud.

“You’re in love with me.” Grantaire continued to repeat.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, can we just pretend I never said anything?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire looked scandalised.

“No.” He said, “No we really can’t. You’re in love with me.”

“Yes.” Enjolras said. “I think we have confirmed that. Now if you won’t pretend it didn’t happen can you at least leave so I can wallow in my misery by myself for a bit.” He walked over to the door holding it open for Grantaire.

“No.” Grantaire said. “No I can’t.”

Enjolras was about to argue. Enjolras was about to tell him how rude he was being. Enjolras was about to go on a rant about how he had just embarrassed himself in front of the guy he was in love with and the decent thing for Grantaire to do was to leave. Enjolras never go to say any of that.

Grantaire was across the room in three large strides. Before Enjolras knew it he was standing extraordinarily close, then his hands were coming up framing Enjolras’s face.

“I have been wanting to do this for the longest time.” Was all he said and then he was kissing him.

And it was slightly awkward, and there were teeth and Enjolras didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, but it was perfect none the less.

Grantaire did kiss with his whole body, just as Enjolras had suspected, and Enjolras could feel every inch of him pressed up against his own body. His hands were in Enjolras’s hair and he was pushing him against the door and Enjolras never wanted it to end.

Eventually they had to pull apart for air. And Enjolras surveyed Grantaire. His shirt had been pulled up by Enjolras’s searching hands leaving a strip of bare skin above his jeans, his hair was a mess from when Enolras’s hands had made it into his curls, and his lips were swollen from kisses and smeared with bright red lipstick. He looked a million times better than any fantasies Enjolras mind had previously produced, and Enjolras looked forward to spending the rest of his life ensuring he saw the sight as often as humanly possible.


End file.
